The front door creaked open slowly.
Two worn boots stepped across the threshold, dust clinging to the leather as if they had walked far longer than fifteen years.
A deep voice broke the stillness — calm, threaded with quiet humor.
"So… what did I miss?"
The fire in the hearth crackled.
No one moved.
Chloe felt it first.
Not recognition. Not memory.
Pressure.
The air shifted — subtle, almost polite — but undeniable. The flames leaned, just slightly, toward the doorway. The shadows along the walls stretched thin, like they were straining to see.
Ava rose from her chair.
Slowly.
Not in panic. Not in disbelief.
In certainty.
The man standing in the doorway was older. Not in body — time had not carved him the way it carved mortals — but in presence. His black and gold wings were folded neatly behind him, smaller than the monument had made them, less theatrical. His dark hair fell just slightly over his eyes.
Those eyes.
They carried distance in them. Distance that did not belong to Earth.
Chloe stood.
She had seen statues.
She had heard stories.
She had memorized every line of his legend.
But legends did not track dirt across wooden floors.
"You're not dead," she said.
It wasn't a question.
The corner of his mouth lifted.
"Last I checked."
Ava stepped forward until only a breath separated them.
"You're late," she said softly.
Something flickered behind his gaze — regret, maybe. Or calculation. Or something far deeper than either.
"I know."
Silence returned.
But it was different now. Heavier.
Chloe's heart pounded in her ears. She didn't know whether she wanted to run to him or demand answers. This was the Fallen King. The Darkened Halo. The man who had defied Olympus.
He looked… human.
That unsettled her more than divinity would have.
The fire flared suddenly.
Blue for half a second.
Chloe inhaled sharply. She hadn't meant to—
The room dimmed.
Not darker.
Just… tilted.
A faint ripple shimmered behind her head, like heat above stone. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Megumi's smile faded.
He saw it.
Not the flare. Not the shadows.
Her.
He took a single step forward, boots thudding softly against the floor.
The air tightened again, not aggressively — more like gravity increasing by a fraction.
He knelt so they were eye level.
Up close, Chloe saw something the statues never captured.
There was no halo above him.
But the space behind his head felt dense. As if light bent around an unseen ring.
"Chloe Valentine," he said quietly.
He spoke her name like it was fragile.
Like it was powerful.
She swallowed.
"You don't get to say my name like you've been here."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Ava inhaled sharply.
Megumi didn't flinch.
"That's fair."
He studied her — not critically, not coldly. Intently.
And then his expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"You've already started," he said.
Chloe's stomach dropped.
"Started what?"
The windows trembled faintly.
Far above, somewhere beyond mortal sight, the clouds shifted — not storming, not thundering — just moving, as if something vast had turned its head.
Megumi rose slowly.
His gaze lifted toward the ceiling.
Toward the sky.
"They felt that," he murmured.
"Who?" Ava asked.
Megumi's jaw tightened slightly.
"Not the Olympians."
That landed like a stone in still water.
Chloe felt it again — that pressure in her chest, like something trying to stretch outward from inside her ribs.
"I didn't do anything," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true.
Megumi looked back at her.
"Yes," he said gently.
"You did."
The fire extinguished itself.
Darkness swallowed the room for a single breath.
Then the flames returned — normal. Orange. Quiet.
Megumi stepped fully into the house and closed the door behind him.
The latch clicked.
A small, ordinary sound.
"I was hoping," he said carefully, "we'd have more time."
Ava's voice was steady, but her eyes weren't.
"Time for what?"
Megumi looked at Chloe again.
"For them not to notice."
Outside, far beyond the hidden valley, something ancient shifted in its sleep.
And for the first time since his return, Megumi Valentine looked uncertain.